They were alone in a room at the hotel where they were stopping.
“All right,” said the Virginian gloomily. “Ask away, but I don’t know that I’ll be able to answer it.”
“What I’d like to know,” said Harry, “is what ails Frank Merriwell.”
“Well, you have come to the wrong place to find out,” said the Virginian.
“You know something is the matter with him?”
“Yes, anybody can see that.”
“Even Browning knows it now.”
“I have known it for some time, and I have tried to find out, but I might as well not.”
“He has been so queer since the time when that red star fell on his plate in the restaurant.”
“He was queer before that. He had not been like himself in two days.”